


They Don't Call Him Sweet JP for Nothing

by yay_for_absurdism



Category: Redline (Anime)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Frisbee is v gay for JP, M/M, That's the fic my dudes, They fuck on the hood of the Trans Am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yay_for_absurdism/pseuds/yay_for_absurdism
Summary: He hadn’t expected JP to kiss him. Not now, not ever.Happens sometime before the Redline but after Frisbee gets involved with the mob.
Relationships: JP/Frisbee, Joshua "Frisbee" Flathead/JP
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	They Don't Call Him Sweet JP for Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> When there's almost no content in a fandom so you have to go make the content yourself. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was late but he wasn’t tired. 

They’d landed on the planet earlier in the day in anticipation for a race in two days' time. With the registration all finalized and his things in a hotel room and the Trans Am in a garage a few buildings down, Frisbee should be getting to bed and resting. But the jet lag was worse than normal and despite the two crescent moons rising over the black-tinged-red midnight sky, he wasn’t the least bit tired. 

Dropping the butt of his cigarette on the sidewalk and crushing it beneath his shoe, Frisbee looked around the quiet, nearly deserted street. Only one of the nearby streetlights were illuminated, enough to keep the road visible but not enough to give the impression that they were anywhere else but in a backwater town on a shithole planet. 

Eh, whatever. As if they ever ended up in nice places. 

And at least the payout from the race would make it worth it. 

He’d been walking around absentmindedly for the better part of an hour, and he had ended up almost where he had started. Not quite at the hotel but just down the street, in front of the rundown garage that currently housed the Trans Am. For a moment he stood there, in front of the building, looking at the paint flaking off of the wall and the cracks spiderwebbing up on of the dusty windows. But then he reached out and tried the door handle. 

It was unlocked, and he could guess why. 

It wasn’t a surprise that JP was there, sitting on the hood of the Trans Am in the nearly dark and silent garage, gazed fixed on nothing in particular with a cigarette between his lips. 

“Hey.” 

JP looked up, blinked, and smiled. “Hey.” he replied, tapping the end off of his cigarette, the ash fluttering to the ground. “Can’t sleep?” 

“Not tired.” Frisbee replied, walking deeper into the garage. 

Hands in his pockets, he leaned up against the front of the Trans Am beside JP. After a moment JP fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a half empty cigarette box, offering his friend a smoke. “Thanks.” he mumbled, placing a cigarette between his lips and letting JP light it for him. 

He let the warm smoke fill his lungs for a long moment before breathing out, a grey cloud rising up to join the smoke JP puffed out. 

“Excited?” he asked, once his cigarette had burned halfway through. 

“Yeah.” JP smiled wide, “I wish the race was tomorrow, though.” 

He chuckled. “We can find a place for you to practice tomorrow, if you want.” 

JP’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with the anticipation of being able to drive. “Great.” he pulled out another cigarette before tucking the box back into his jacket pocket. “You should come with and watch me.”

He wanted to. He really, really did. All he wanted was to stand out in the barren wilderness of a foreign planet and feel the heat of the Trans Am as JP sped past him, far closer than was definitively safe. “Can’t.” he sighed, “I’ve got some business to take care of before the race.” 

They both knew what sort of business he was talking about, and with that they were plunged into silence. Frisbee watched his cigarette burn down, barely taking a drag as it did, bit by bit until he dropped the butt onto the concrete floor and extinguished it under the heel of his shoe. He took a quick glance at JP, the man’s face partially lit by the tiny light at the end of his cigarette as he took a deep breath in. He looked far away, deep in thought, absentmindedly drawing circles on the hood of the Trans Am with his index finger. 

With a sigh, Frisbee stood up, running a hand though his hair. “I’ll see you in the morning.” he mumbled, turning to leave. But a hand gripping the sleeve of his suit jacket stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“Hey.” JP was looking at him with a look in those purple eyes that he couldn’t pinpoint. 

“What?” 

“Thanks.” 

“For what?” 

JP pulled on his sleeve, forcing him to stumble back against the front of the Trans Am. That hand moved from his sleeve to his cheek, forcing him to tilt his head up, and then JP’s lips were on his, soft and warm and like he’d always imagined but had never expected to feel. 

After only a second JP pulled back, not very far but far enough that Frisbee could see the cheeky grin on his face. “You’re blushing.” the man smirked, eyes sparkling. 

“Well I wonder why.” he mumbled back, knowing full well that there was a heavy blush coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He hadn’t expected JP to kiss him. Not now, not ever. And as much as he wanted to know why, that could wait until later. Right now, he just wanted, needed, more, and he grabbed JP by the front of his jacket to pull him down into another kiss. 

JP kissed back, eagerly, both hands coming up to cup Frisbee’s jaw, angling his face up farther for a better angle. Frisbee had to stand on the tips of his toes even though JP was sitting, and it didn’t make it any easier when the man stood up. He had to wrap his arms around JP’s shoulders and pull him down, forcing him to bend over. 

“Should I sit back down?” JP asked, teasing, voice filled with mirth. 

“You should shut up.” 

JP hummed, smiling. “I can do that.” 

And he did. 

So maybe Frisbee hadn’t ever gotten much action. Maybe he’d been busy with other things like attending races and building cars and paying attention to JP. And maybe no one ever really paid any attention to him, especially because JP was always standing beside him, tall and handsome and charismatic and getting enough attention for the two of them. But still. He knew enough to be able to tell if someone was a good kisser. 

And JP was a good kisser. 

They didn’t call him Sweet JP for nothing. 

Frisbee melted into the kiss, allowing JP to take control because he really didn’t have an option not too. The man took control right away, kissing deep, tongue flicking out to run along Frisbee’s lips. And he eagerly parted his lips, letting JP’s tongue slip inside, goddamn, JP’s tongue in his mouth was something he hadn’t though would ever happen. 

He felt a drop of saliva drip down his chin and didn’t even try to wipe it away. 

JP’s hands ran down his back and then came back up to tug at his suit jacket. Pulling his arms back from around JP’s shoulders, Frisbee helped pull his jacket off and over his shoulders, and the garment was tossed onto the dusty concrete floor without a second thought. In an instant JP’s hands were under his shirt, untucking it from his belt, hands pressed flat against his back, holding him close. Pulling him close so that their bodies were flush, as close as could be while still being able to kiss. Those silver rings were cold against his skin, making him shiver. 

Shifting, JP maneuvering them so that Frisbee was pinned between the man and the Trans Am. With JP leaning farther and farther forwards, Frisbee had to lean back against the hood, eventually having to prop himself up on one elbow to stop from all but laying down on the Trans Am. 

But then he came crashing down onto his back when JP reached down and pulled one of his legs out from under him. 

“Ow! What the fuck!” he hissed, breath knocked out of him for a split second. He could feel the slight coolness of the car through his shirt. 

JP laughed into the kiss, one hand coming to rest on the hood beside Frisbee’s shoulder. 

It was useless to fight it, so Frisbee maneuvered himself so that he was fully supported by the vehicle, laying on the hood with one heel resting on the front bumper while the other foot just barely touched the ground. JP nudged his knees apart, moving forwards to stand between his legs and leaning over so that their bodies were flush, chest to chest. 

Resisting the urge to wrap his legs around JP’s waist, Frisbee held the man close, nails digging into his leather coat. With JP all but laying on top of him it was hard to breath, but the closeness was all he’d ever wanted. And JP held him back, just as tight but without the desperation. 

Pressed close together like this, though, he could feel JP’s clothed erection digging into his inner thigh. And, in return, his own erecting pressing against JP’s lower abdomen. 

Evidently, JP could feel it too. “From just a kiss, eh?” the man teased, smirking, and Frisbee sort of wanted to punch him. 

“You’re not any better.” he shot back, biting his lip to hold back a moan as JP rolled his hips. 

“Never said I was.” 

And JP continued to grind down against him and fuck, it was good. Sure, it was just JP sloppily grinding against him with multiple layers of clothing between then and JP’s belt buckle was digging into his hip, but the fact that it was JP... well, that was enough. More than enough. It was JP, pressing him down against the hood of the Trans Am and kissing him and holding him close. 

Chest to chest, he could feel his heartbeat mirrored by JP, fast and strong and speeding up. 

JP’s movements became faster, and wilder, and he was moving too much for them to continue to kiss, and instead the man’s lips travelled up the length of Frisbee’s jaw, his cheek, his ear, his forehead, anywhere he could reach. His skin was thick and rough, but if JP were to be a little rougher, just a bit, the man could leave a mark. God, just a little bit rougher, but he couldn’t form the words to ask for it. He just let out a shuddering breath against JP’s neck. 

The pressure was good but not enough. Not nearly enough, he met JP’s movements and reveled in the friction and the soft moans he was able to pull out of his friend. Those sounds were beautiful, doing nothing but making the arousal pooling in the pit of his stomach burn hotter. He wrapped his legs around JP’s waist, forcing their bodies even closer. His grip tightened around the man’s shoulders, nails sinking deep into the thick materiel of JP’s coat, not quite through the leather but close. He was close. Fuck, so close, despite having not even directly touched his cock. Too close. 

“Frisbee...” JP breathed in his ear, voice soft and tight, and that almost did it for him. 

He replied, voice just as breathy and strained, “What?” 

“I want to fuck you.” 

Oh, fuck, those words sent a jolt through his body, something akin to electricity and adrenaline mixed together and turned up to eleven. Running to the tips of his fingers and toes, pooling in the pit of his stomach, stopping his heart for a second. He, surely, must have had heard JP wrong but it didn’t matter, he wasn't going to ask him to say it again just in case this whole thing was some sort of twisted joke or perfect dream and the illusion might shatter if he thought too hard about it. 

Because, fuck, how long had been dreaming about this very thing happening without any hope of it becoming a reality. 

When he finally found his voice, all he could say, in reply, was, “Yeah. Do it.” 

JP let go of him, standing up, and Frisbee let go too, detaching his nails from the small holes he’d borne into that leather jacket. 

Stepping back, JP felt his hair, making sure everything was still in place (the vain bastard), and when he was satisfied that everything was okay he shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders. Tossing the garment to the side, he turned his attention back to Frisbee. 

“Flip onto your front.” the man grinned, running his tongue up the length of his index finger and all of a sudden Frisbee’s mouth was bone-dry. 

He watched, eyes wide, as JP licked his fingers, coating them in as much saliva as he could. Fuck, he’d died and gone to whatever heaven existed, JP was a sight to behold with that wicked, knowing gleam in his eyes. 

“Y-yeah.” he managed to say in response. Sliding down the hood of the Trans Am so that he could plant both feet, firmly, on the ground, he turned around. For no reason in particular his hands were shaking as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. 

He bent over, leaning against the Trans Am. He could feel JP step forwards, right up behind him, and Frisbee couldn’t stop himself from twitching a little as he felt the man’s hand slip under his pants and underwear and down his ass. 

“Let me know if anything hurts.” JP murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the back of his neck. 

Folding one arm over the other and burying his face in the crook of his elbow, Frisbee replied. “Yeah, yeah, just hurry up.” 

It was cold, and uncomfortable, but it didn’t hurt. JP was gentle, moving his fingers slowly in and out as he coaxed the muscles to stretch and relax. Almost too gentle, really, it was agonizingly slow and as aroused as he was a finger or two was not doing it for him. He couldn’t stop from rocking back against those fingers. 

“Eager?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m not doing any better right now.” JP confessed, and Frisbee could all but hear him gritting his teeth. “I’m trying so hard to go slow, but-” 

“It’s good enough.” Frisbee interrupted, “Just... fucking... I’m good enough.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes. Just hurry up.” 

Frisbee bit back a moan as JP pulled his fingers out. A second later he heard the soft clinking of metal against leather as JP unbuckled his belt, and then the sound of a zipper and then the rustle of clothes, and then. Nothing. Nothing for a long, slow moment. 

He looked back, over his shoulder. Despite the dim light of the garage, JP’s eyes seemed to glow as he stood there, still. He was working his bottom lip between his teeth, looking down at Frisbee. There was excitement, and arousal, in those purple eyes, but also wariness and a tiny bit of hesitancy. Fair enough. This was certainly a big shift in the status quo of their friendship. 

But it wasn’t as if their friendship hadn’t changed before, right? Swallowing down his own fear and doubt, Frisbee asked “What are you waiting for?”, lips twisting into a deceptively confident smirk. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.” 

JP laughed, smiling wide. “Nah. Just appreciating the view.” and he stepped back towards Frisbee, one hand coming to rest on his hip. “You good?” 

Frisbee nodded, turning back around, resting his forehead on the hood of the Trans Am. He could feel that hand, holding him steady, and then the slick warmth of JP’s cock just barely pressed against his entrance. His own heartbeat was deafening in his ears, and then JP thrust forwards, slipping inside, and he gasped. It hurt. Not a lot, but JP was tall and everything was proportional, and saliva really wasn’t good enough for this sort of thing and maybe he’d cut the prep a little too short. 

“Fuck.” he breathed, the curse tumbling out from his lips as JP thrust forwards again, sinking in deeper. 

JP stopped. “You okay?” he asked, and Frisbee could imagine his eyebrows knitting together in worry. 

“I’m fine.” and, when JP didn’t move, “Keep going.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” Even if it hurt, he needed more. He needed all of it, everything, all of JP right this second. He relaxed best he could, bit his lip to keep from making any noise, and pressed back with his hips, urging JP to move already. 

Hesitantly at first, JP began to thrust, eventually building up to a steady pace. The pain quickly faded to a dull ache to pleasure, god it had been a long, long time since he’d last had sex and he’d forgotten how good it felt. And as good as he was at kissing, of course JP was also a good fuck. Oh, god, the way he rolled his hips, hitting deep with each thrust, pulling out all the way to the head and then sinking back in. Fuck. If he hadn’t been leaning against the Trans Am, his legs would have given out already. 

Frisbee felt JP lean down, body warm against his back, and it felt like the man was whispering right in his ear. “You... okay?” 

If they hadn't been squeezed shut, Frisbee would have rolled his eyes. Of course he was okay. He was on a foreign planet, in a dim garage, bent over the front of the Trans Am with his pants around his ankles and his best friend fucking him. He knew what JP meant, though. “Yeah.” he replied. 

“It doesn’t... hurt?” 

Was JP always this nice and considerate when he fucked? Maybe that was how he’d gotten his nickname. 

Or maybe this was the first time he’d fucked a guy? Maybe JP was used to sleeping with pretty little girls and being a big guy he had to make sure he was gentle. Pity.  
Frisbee chuckled. “I’m not going to break.” he replied, “Don’t worry.” 

“Yeah, but-” 

He thrust his hips back, meeting JP’s thrusts, “Don’t worry.” repeated “You don’t have to be gentle.” 

He expected JP to ask “Are you sure?” but instead the man said, voice low and soft, “Just remember, you asked for it.” There was something a little dangerous, a little wild, in his voice, and it sent a shiver down Frisbee’s spine. Good. Fuck. Yes. Good. He was asking for it, and more. 

JP had been holding back. A lot. He snapped his hips forwards, hard, and Frisbee sunk his teeth into his bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood to keep from all but screaming. He wasn’t loud, usually, but fuck, JP might drag it out of him. He’d thought JP had been going deep before but obviously he’d been wrong. 

“Holy shit.” he moaned, and he could hear JP laugh best he could between breaths. 

“Too much?” 

“Not enough.” Because Frisbee sure as hell wasn’t a coward and he wanted everything JP could give him. 

And, did JP give him everything. Who knew JP could have so much strength in that skinny body? If the fingers digging into his hips didn’t leave bruises, the places where his hipbones were pressed against the hard metal of the hood certainly would. But like hell if he cared. He wanted more. 

He dug his nails into the hood of the Trans Am, cursing the fact he couldn’t find purchase. There was nothing for him to hold onto, the hood was too sleek, too aerodynamic by his own design. He knew his nails were putting tiny scratches into the paint job but he couldn’t help it. They could buff it out tomorrow. 

He felt JP’s hand over top of his, lacing their fingers together, and at least he had something to hold onto now. And he held on for dear life. 

“Fuck, Frisbee...” 

As he tried to stifle his voice, JP did the exact opposite. The man was unabashedly loud, not caring that maybe someone might be living in one of the buildings bordering the garage. Frisbee didn’t mind, he definitely though JP’s voice was sexy as hell and fuck the people living around here. And he definitely didn’t mind JP’s soft, almost nonsensical rambling, staccato sentence fragments laced together with curses and labored breaths. 

“Fuck... fuck, Frisbee...” the man moaned, inches from Frisbee’s ear. “Shit, man... you feel so good... so fucking good... fuck...” 

His ears were sensitive, and the vibrations from JP’s low, husky voice were too good. 

“I... you... I love you, fuck, so good...” 

He didn’t know if JP knew what he was saying. It was just rambling in the heat of the moment. The man probably wouldn’t remember anything he said. But Frisbee would remember, he would hold onto those words greedily, even if maybe he’d misheard. 

He bit his lip to keep from saying anything in return. 

JP’s ramblings fell apart even more, words turning into syllables turning into nothing but labored breathing. He must be close, Frisbee could feel his movements become wilder, more erratic, thrusts shallower but faster. JP was gripping his hand so tightly it hurt, both of their knuckles turning white. 

And then, with a moan of “Oh, god,” JP came, hips shuddering to a halt, and he collapsed, still save for his labored breathing, against Frisbee’s back. 

JP’s breath was hot on the back of his neck as the man came down, each heavy, searing breath sending a shiver down Frisbee’s spine. His own body was still alight with arousal, he hadn’t come yet, he needed to find release. He shifted, best he could with JP laying on top of him, trying to maneuver a hand down between his legs. 

JP noticed. “Did you...?” 

“No.” 

It didn’t take long, though, as JP’s wrapped those long, strong fingers around his cock and jerked him off to completion. He shuddered in JP’s grip, vision going white behind his eyelids, and he would have collapsed if he were not laying against the Trans Am and held in JP’s arms. 

His breath formed condensation on the hood, the metal somehow still cool despite how blisteringly hot it felt within the garage. 

After a minute of silence and stillness and labored breathing, Frisbee felt JP stand up, pulling out as he did. Immediately he missed the man’s weight and the feeling of being full, but his limbs felt like lead and he was exhausted and sated so he couldn’t really move to remedy it. 

He managed to prop himself up on his elbows when he felt JP’s lips on the back of his neck, peppering the bare skin with soft kisses. 

“You okay?” the man asked, sounding just as out of breath and exhausted as Frisbee currently felt. 

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” 

“An honest one?” 

Oh, man, he was too earnest for his own good. With a smile, Frisbee replied, “I’m okay.” 

“Just okay?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Were you expecting a different answer?” 

“No one’s ever described me as just “okay” before.” But from the sound of his voice, tinged with mirth, JP didn’t seem to be at all worried about his performance. “So, are you tired yet?” 

Frisbee rolled himself onto his back with a grunt. JP was radiant, cheeks flushed and hair a mess, stray strands hanging from his pompadour and falling in his face. “Not even a bit.” he replied, smirking up at his friend. “Why, you think that was enough to tire me out?” 

JP shrugged, smiling back, and leaned down to pull Frisbee into a kiss. 

… 

He woke up in JP’s bed with the man snoring softly beside him. 

After a moment of lying there in silence, staring at the paint peeling off the ceiling, he muttered to himself “What the fuck.” 

It didn’t feel real. Of course it didn’t, it felt like a dream, a dream he’d been having for the better part of, well, his entire life. A dream he didn’t deserve and had always been far out of his reach, the sort of dream that you feel just a bit guilty for having. 

But no, it was real, this was real life, as sure as the man sleeping beside him and the way his entire body ached. 

He bit back a moan as he pushed himself into a semi-seated position. Fuck, was he getting old already? Or maybe fucking on the hood of a car just wasn’t a great idea to begin with. Or maybe it was the second... and third? round back here in the hotel room that was causing his muscles to complain. He couldn’t quite remember exactly what had happened. 

Beside him, JP made a little noise and rolled over onto his back, his lanky body sprawled across the barely long enough hotel bed. The man was still sleeping peacefully, snoring quietly with a small smile on his lips. There were a couple red kiss-marks blooming across his neck and collarbone, and, a rare sight indeed, his hair was down, the events of last night rigorous enough to have forced his ever-perfect pompadour to collapse. 

Frisbee smiled. JP looked far different with his hair down. Younger, maybe. Or something. Just very, very different. 

But he was cute. 

Without thinking about it, he reached down and, gently, brushed a long strand of black hair out of JP’s face. Oh, man, he was in deep. Not that he hadn't known that already, but waking up in JP’s hotel room after an incredibly passionate night? Well, that made the feelings come on all the more strongly. 

He leaned over, slowly, and placed a soft kiss on JP’s forehead. Then, standing up with a grunt, he headed to the bathroom. 

... 

When he returned from the shower JP was awake but still in bed, lying down and lazily gazing up at the ceiling. 

“Morning.” 

JP turned his head to look at Frisbee, not being very subtle as his gaze wandered up and down his friend’s naked body. “Morning.” he replied. “How’re you doing?” 

“Sore as hell.” Frisbee lamented, “I won’t be able to sit or walk properly for the rest of the day.” But he didn’t regret it one bit. 

Smiling, JP assured him, “I’ll be gentler next time.” 

Frisbee felt his heart skip a beat. Next time. Holy fucking shit. He couldn’t stop his cheeks from heating up. Subconsciously, his hand went up to touch a hickey on the side of his neck that he had discovered in the mirror a few minutes ago. “You’d better.” he muttered in reply, though, really, he didn’t mind. 

He crossed the hotel room, picking his dress shirt up off of the floor. At least he had had the foresight to bring all of his clothes back to the hotel and pile the garments in one spot by the foot of the bed. They’d be wrinkled, sure, but it was better than having to go back to the garage to pick up a forgotten pair of pants or something. 

He could feel JP’s eyes on him as he slipped his shirt on, and resisted the urge to sigh. He couldn’t deny that the atmosphere between them felt a little bit different. A little off. A little tense. Obviously, that was inevitable, given the circumstances. Fuck. 

He felt like he should say something. And, glancing over, it looked like JP wanted to say something too. 

He should say something. Anything. Even just... just a part of how he felt. Not everything, not now, but... something. 

He chickened out. “You should wear your hair down sometimes.” he said, nonchalantly, buttoning his shirt up. 

JP pouted, reaching for the pack of smokes sitting on the nightstand. “No way.” he replied, shifting into a partially sitting position and lighting a cigarette. “It looks terrible.” 

Frisbee chuckled, stepping into his pants. “I think it’s sort of cute.” 

“You do not.” 

He shrugged, picking up his jacket and doing his best to shake the dirt and dust off. “Maybe I do.” he bent down to grab his shoes. “You look cute no matter how you have your hair.” He wasn’t teasing, but it sounded like he was. 

“Fuck you.” 

Frisbee smiled to himself. Adjusting his jacket and running a hand through his damp hair, he walked towards the door. “Anyways. I’ll see you later.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“I’ve got some things to do, remember?” 

JP’s smile dimmed, but he did his best to play it off. “Oh. Yeah. Right.” 

“If you haven’t headed out to go for a drive before I get back...” he picked at the hem of his suit jacket’s sleeve. “I’ll come with you.” 

“Sounds good.” JP replied, giving him a soft smile. 

He opened the door, stepping out into the hall. “Don’t wait up for me, though.” 

“I won’t.” 

They both knew he would.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, nothing like writing for a dead and criminally underrated fandom. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this lil fic.


End file.
